


Snowman

by NarryMusings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Charlie believes in magic, Charlie is his son, Charlie is obsessed with the movie Jack Frost, Love at First Sight, M/M, harry is a dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:10:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8769427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryMusings/pseuds/NarryMusings
Summary: Charlie just wants to build his dad a boyfriend. And then Niall appears.





	

Charlie springs out of bed the moment he hears a car pull into the driveway, and flings himself towards his bedroom window. He has a perfect view of the street, and he watches as only one man climbs out of the car. The car door is slammed shut with a loud bang, and Charlie blinks in confusion. _Is he angry? Why is he angry?_

He watches the car speed off, listens for the sound of the front door opening, and then tiptoes across his bedroom floor, through the door and out into the hallway before sitting at the top of the stairs. He listens intently for his father’s voice – but it’s his Auntie Gems he hears speak first.

“You’re home early,” she says.

“I give up, Gems,” Charlie’s dad tells her. “It’s over. I’m done.”

Auntie Gems sighs. “Harry-“

“He told me he forgot his wallet,” Harry says. And, well, he does sound angry.

“Shit,” Gemma swears.

“So, yeah, I paid for everything, which- Fine. I don’t mind paying on a date, right? But to tell me, _after_ we’ve already eaten – and he’s ordered a bloody _steak_ – that he just happened to have forgotten his wallet?”

“Maybe he actually did forget his wallet?”

“No, I saw it in his car.”

“Well, on the bright side- You’ve successfully dodged a bullet, then, little brother.”

“Right, well, this time I’m serious. I’m done with men.” His dad sounds disappointed. It makes Charlie feel sad.

“Could always try women again?”

“No, I’m done with them too. I’m just- Done with dating. Period.”

“Harry-“

“I’ve gone on ten dates in the last year, Gemma, and seven of them were shit. The other three were shit dates on either the second or third, which isn’t as bad – but close enough. So, clearly somebody somewhere is trying to tell me something.”

“And what is it that you think someone is trying to tell you?”

His dad is silent for a moment, and then- “That romance is out of the cards for me.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” Gemma scoffs. “There is somebody out there for you, little brother. You just haven’t found him yet.”

“Well, I’m done looking for him. Besides- Charlie and I have been doing fine – and we’ll continue to do fine, on our own. I don’t need a man.”

“Speaking of Charlie… He really is obsessed with that Jack Frost movie, isn’t he?”

Harry laughs. “Impeccably so. Did he make you watch it with him?”

“Twice.”

Harry cackles this time. “He’s so obsessed. It’s amazing.”

“It’s cute,” Gemma agrees.

“Did he go to bed alright?”

“He wanted to wait up for you, to ask you ‘all about your date’, but I sent him upstairs about an hour ago. If I’d known you’d have been home so soon, then I might have let him stay up.”

“No, it’s good that you sent him to bed,” his dad murmurs softly. “Sometimes I think he gets more disappointed after I go on a bad date than I do.”

“He just wants you to be happy, Harry. Happy with someone who makes you happy – someone who isn’t Charlie.”

“He worries too much for a six year old.”

“I mean, he is _your_ kid, you know.”

“And he’s twice as fantastic.”

“Wait, who told you that you’re fantastic?” Gemma teases.

“Well, even though the second date ended horribly, there was that one bloke who-“

“Alright! That’s enough, say no more!”

Harry laughs. Charlie likes the sound of his dad’s laugh.

“I should get going,” Gemma says.

“Yeah, I should get to bed. God, I feel so old.”

“Don’t lose hope, alright? We’ll find you a boyfriend- And then you’ll realize why it never worked with anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah- Go home, Gems.”

“I love you, little brother.”

Charlie listens to his daddy say ‘ _I love you_ ’ back to Auntie Gems, before he tiptoes back into his room, and climbs back underneath the covers. He lies on his back, stares at the ceiling, and can’t help but picture his dad looking absolutely miserable because this guy, like the others, let him down.

A lightbulb goes off in his head, suddenly- What if they don’t have to _find_ daddy a boyfriend? What if all they have to do is _make_ one?

X

His phone rings the following morning just as he’s getting out of the shower. He hurries in wrapping a towel around his waist, before padding over the threshold from his ensuite bathroom into the bedroom. It could be his sister, with some outlandish idea of how he’s supposed to land a bloke – or perhaps it could be his mother, calling to see how the date went (and the last thing he wants to do is tell her that it was shit, again)- Except, upon looking at the caller ID, before making the mistake of answering it, he realizes it’s much worse than either of them.

“So- How’d it go?” Louis asks, before Harry even has a chance to greet him.

Harry rolls his eyes. “He told me he forgot his wallet, and then I saw it in his car.”

“Oh…”

“So, naturally, I confronted him about it, and then he accused me of being a spoiled, rich brat and that it was the least I could do anyway, since I wouldn’t blow him in the loo.”

“Jesus,” Louis mutters. “Well, you dodged a bullet then, didn’t you?”

“Except that I still had to pay €25 for his steak.”

“Bastard. Next time, just go out for a coffee or something-“

Harry rolls his eyes. “There won’t be a next time,” he mutters. He turns the speaker on, then, and places the phone back on the bedside table before he busies himself with getting dressed.

“I know this guy-“

“Absolutely not,” Harry snaps. “The last three times I went on a date with one of your friends, those dates were shit too. I still don’t know why you’re friends with them.”

“Because they’re good friends, just…terrible boyfriend material, it seems.”

“No,” Harry says again. “I’m done with dating.”

“Alright, but, I-“

“No.”

“What if I told you that Liam knows him too?” Louis asks, sounding hopeful. “And that Liam actually knew him _first_?”

“Still no.”

Louis groans loudly, obnoxiously, dramatically. “Why don’t you trust me?”

Harry rolls his eyes as he pulls an old, grey jumper over his head. “Would you like an alphabetical list, or a chronological one?”

“You’re rude,” Louis scowls. “I don’t know why I talk to you.”

Harry grabs his phone, turns off the speaker and then lifts it to his ear. “Sorry, I just-“

Louis sighs. “I know. But I promise, this guy is-“

“I just- I can’t right now, Lou,” Harry says softly. “Besides, now isn’t really a good time to start dating someone anyway. There’s three weeks until Christmas, people are busy – _I’m_ busy.”

“Fine,” Louis mutters. He emphasizes it, drags it out slightly. “I’ll stop. For now.”

There is movement out in the hallway outside Harry’s bedroom door, and he knows he’s got approximately one minute until a wiry and energetic six-year-old comes bounding into his room, requesting Saturday morning pancakes. “Charlie’s up, which means I’ve got pancake duty in a bit. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Sure,” Louis says. “Oi, hang on, before you go- Liam and I are going out next weekend with some lads. Care to join us?”

“Promise you won’t try and set me up?”

“Promise,” Louis grumbles.

“Charlie will be with Paige next weekend, so- Probably.”

As if on cue, the door swings open and a blur of red, blue, and brown bursts into Harry’s room and then runs straight at him; Harry pretends to be overrun, shouts and groans as Charlie makes contact with his legs and then falls back on the bed. He somehow also manages to hang up on Louis at the same time, right before Charlie crawls up and sits on his bed.

“It’s pancake day, daddy!” Charlie shouts enthusiastically. “We have to go.”

“I’ll race you to the kitchen-“

Charlie is off before Harry even finishes his sentence. And then Harry runs after him.

X

“Daddy?” Charlie asks around a mouth full of strawberry pancakes.

“Swallow first, please, buddy” Harry requests.

Charlie does as he’s told before he tries again; “Daddy?”

Harry smirks softly. “Yes, Charlie?”

“Is it ever gonna snow?”

“Oh, I’m sure it will eventually.”

“Before Christmas?”

Harry’s brow furrows in curiosity as he reaches out to ruffle at his son’s soft curls. “I really can’t tell you, bud. Why?”

Charlie sighs. “I want to build a snowman.”

Harry laughs. “Right, well, tell you what- Whenever there’s enough snow on the ground, I’ll help you build that snowman.”

Charlie’s eyes blow wide open. “ _Whenever?_ ” he asks, incredulous. “Even if it’s past my bedtime?”

And, shit- Harry supposes he walked right into that one. “Yeah,” he says. “Even if it’s past your bedtime.”

(He really hopes that it doesn’t go past Charlie’s bedtime.)

X

“DADDY!”

Harry drops the knife in his hand onto the kitchen counter, and then bolts into the living. His stomach feels like it’s in his throat, and his chest is tight; he feels panicked. “Charlie!” He makes a beeline for his son, who’s kneeling on the living room sofa, looking out the large window.

“Daddy, it’s snowing,” Charlie says excitedly. His gaze remains trained on the falling snowflakes outside. “Is it enough to make a snowman?”

There’s a blanket of snow across the front yard, but it’s not quite thick enough to do much of anything with.

“Not yet, Charlie,” Harry murmurs. “How about we check again after dinner? We’ll make you a snowman, and then get you ready for bed so that you’ll be ready bright and early for mummy in the morning, yeah?”

“Okay!”

Harry smiles fondly. He stands back, observes the way his son continues to stare out the window. There’s something magical in watching a child believe in magic.

 

The first order of business, is to get a button from Harry’s grandmother’s old sewing kit along with two black pebbles from the garden in the backyard; a snowman needs to have a face, after all. Charlie grabs a grey flat cap, along with a grey scarf from the closet in the front hall as an afterthought.

The following step is to get Charlie into his snowsuit, which is always a bit difficult. Then, once Charlie is ready to go, Harry pulls on his own jacket, and places a beanie over his head.

Charlie gets to works on the first of three snow boulders; Harry tries to help him, but he insists on doing it himself. And then he insists on doing the second, slightly smaller boulder, only requesting Harry’s help when it’s ready to be placed on top of the larger one. He takes care of the third, smallest boulder last, and only when he’s happy with the outcome, does he ask Harry to put it on top.

“Are you ready to put on his face?” Harry asks, hoisting Charlie up into his arms.

Charlie nods ecstatically when Harry holds his free hand up, palm open. He takes the button, and places it in the centre of the face of the snowman’s head. Then he takes both pebbles, and places them slightly above the button on either side, a fair distance apart. He then runs a finger through the snow to make the snowman a smile.

Harry hands Charlie the hat, which the littlest Styles places on top of the head, before wrapping the scarf around the space connecting the head to the middle boulder to make a neck.

“He needs arms, daddy,” Charlie observes, once Harry has set him back on his feet.

Harry hums. “I think you’re right. Why don’t you go get a couple of twigs from over there?” He points towards a tree across the yard, underneath which a few old branches have fallen off and landed in the snow.

Charlie runs over to the corner of the yard, grabs two of the twigs, and then runs back. “Can you do it?”

“Absolutely,” Harry says, smiling softly as he talks both twigs into his own hand.

Once the snowman is complete, a tired-eyed Charlie lifts his arms up for Harry to hold him, so Harry picks him up. “Do you think he looks good enough to be your boyfriend?” Charlie asks softly, as Harry carries him into the house.

Harry’s brow furrows in confusion as he sets his son back on the ground to get him out of his snowsuit. “What?” he asks, as he helps pull Charlie’s hat off his head.

“He’s gonna be your boyfriend.”

Harry blinks. “Charlie, what are you talking about?”

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Charlie turns around and runs, then, before Harry can stop him. He leaves wet footprints through the front hall, which Harry makes a mental note to wipe up once they’ve both gotten out of their winter wear, and then disappears into the living room. Less than a moment later he runs back towards Harry, and then straight past him and through the door.

Harry catches a glimpse of the harmonica in his hand just as Charlie slips past him and- Now he knows exactly what his son is talking about. He watches, speechless, as Charlie stands in front of the snowman and blows into the instrument; he’s completely out of tune, in fact there isn’t any tune at all, but he seems satisfied a moment later when he comes running back into the house. Harry doesn’t know what to say as he continues to help Charlie out of his snowsuit.

“You’ll have a boyfriend soon, daddy,” Charlie murmurs.

“Charlie,” Harry sighs, taking each of the little boy’s hands inside of his own. “Love, it’s just a movie.”

Charlie sighs back, dramatically. “Daddy. If Charlie Frost can build a snowman and get his daddy back, then I can get you a boyfriend.”

“But Charlie-“

“Trust me, daddy,” Charlie whispers. He places his hands on each of Harry’s cheeks. “I’ve got this.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Louis too much,” Harry mutters. He wraps both arms around Charlie’s back, and pulls him in close for a hug. He holds Charlie close to him, buries his face in the small curve of Charlie’s neck.

God, he loves this kid.

And at least he’ll have the whole weekend to figure out how to explain that Charlie’s plan didn’t work.

X

“Did you know that your snowman is melting?”

Harry looks over his shoulder, out the living room window, and- Sure enough, the snowman is starting to melt. Secretly, he’s not all that disappointed, as it’ll give him a great excuse as to why Charlie’s plan didn’t work. “Yeah- Remind me to grab the hat and the scarf before we leave later.”

Louis nods, though it looks as though he’s paying more attention to the game on the telly than anything. “I bet Charlie’s going to be upset when he comes home tomorrow and it’s gone.”

“You have no idea,” Harry sighs. “Do you want to know why he wanted to build it?”

“Because kids always want to build snowmen,” Louis snorts. “It’s not rocket science, mate.”

Harry kicks at Louis’ ankles, revels in the scowl he gets when Louis’ feet slip off the coffee table. “No. Because he thinks he can make me a boyfriend.”

Louis laughs, loudly and obnoxiously. “That kid has watched Jack Frost way too many times.”

“I know,” Harry groans. “And guess what he said to me when I told him it was just a movie.”

Louis arches a curious eyebrow.

“ _‘I got this.’_ ”

Louis snorts. “If I didn’t know that that kid is yours, I’d swear he was mine.”

“I know.”

“It’s kind of sweet though, isn’t it?” Louis asks, then, in all seriousness. He has his moments, from time to time. “He’s just trying to look after you.”

Harry sighs. “I mean, yeah, definitely,” he says softly. “Except that I’m not going to get a boyfriend, and the snowman is going to melt overnight with how mild it is, and he’s going to be heartbroken.”

“You’ll just have to explain it to him – properly.”

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Now- Go get dressed, Harold,” Louis demands. “We have places to be. And- Wear something…decent, yeah? None of those weird, flowery, pattern-y, see-through shit.”

Harry rolls his eyes as he pushes himself to his feet; he’s already dreading having agreed to go out with Louis and Liam, even if a couple of their other friends will be tagging along too. In fact, he’s still not even entirely sure that this isn’t some sort of ploy to set Harry up, but- Well, Harry could use a night out, while Charlie is with Paige.

X

The pub is relatively quiet, despite the decent amount of people inside; it’s nothing more than a low hum of chatter from the patrons. And Harry likes it. He prefers pubs to clubs, prefers being able to talk to people comfortably instead of yelling over loud music, and screaming drunk people. He prefers to sit down and have drinks with his mates, or play billiards, or even just listen to live entertainment, over navigating his way through hot and sticky, sweaty bodies every time he needs to go for a wee.

He’s with Louis, Liam, and two of Liam’s friends, neither of whom Harry can remember the names of, at the moment – not that it matters very much, seeing as they’ve gone off to shoot some pool across the room. He’s just finished catching Liam up to speed about Charlie’s snowman, because Louis only remembers half of the details, when someone slides onto the bench on Liam’s side of the booth.

It’s a bloke. He’s all fair skin, and flushed cheeks, and pink lips, and blue eyes, and dyed-blond hair, although his brown roots are fairly long so he must be growing it out a little bit, and broad shoulders, and- He’s beautiful. He’s stunning, really.

Harry’s mouth goes kind of dry.

Liam looks a bit perplexed at first, until realization dawns on him a moment later. “Nialler!” he shouts enthusiastically, before bringing the lad – Niall – in for a one armed hug. “You made it! I thought you were busy at the studio all night?”

“I would have been, but Jamie’s wife demanded that he be home at a reasonable time, so- I thought I’d swing by,” Niall replies, shrugs his shoulders before stealing a sip of Liam’s beer.

Harry sort of loves that he has an Irish accent.

“Sucker,” Liam snickers. “You know Louis, yeah, but this is Harry.”

“Hiya, mate,” Niall greets him, holding his hand out across the table.

Harry blinks, then reaches out to shake Niall’s hand. “Hi,” he murmurs.

“Niall and I have known each other since we were in nappies,” Liam tells him. “Like you and Lou, only we lost each other for a few years during uni. He just moved back from the U.S. a couple of months ago.”

Harry arches a curious eyebrow. “What were you doing in the U.S.?”

“I studied sound engineering there, and got a job at a studio in L.A. pretty much right out of college,” the Irish bloke explains easily. “And then my boyfriend and I broke up, and I decided to bring my knowledge and understanding of studios here. I also just needed to come home.”

“Damn right you did,” Louis teases. “Any longer and you might have lost your accent entirely to your California bros.”

Niall flicks a cardboard coaster at him, before climbing out of the booth and to his feet. “I’m gonna get a drink, should I get a round?”

“As long as you’re buying,” Louis hums, swallowing down the last sip of his own beer.

“Arse.”

“I’ll come with you,” Liam says, as he, too, climbs out of the booth.

With both of them gone, it leaves Louis and Harry alone. Then, less a minute later, Louis gets up to use to the loo, which leaves Harry alone – and, naturally, Harry winds up observing Niall. He lets his gaze wander; from his broad shoulders beneath a beige jumper, down his skinny legs, and then back up to his thin waist and perky little bum. He’s incredibly fit and, well, Harry might not be interested in dating anyone at the moment, but it doesn’t hurt to look… Right?

X

“Hey.”

Harry glances over his shoulder, from where he’s leaning forward, arms folded in front of his across the bar, and his breath catches slightly in his throat when his gaze locks with Niall’s. “Uh, hey.”

“Sorry, did I startle you?” Niall asks softly, as he, too, leans forward.

“No, I just- Maybe a little bit,” Harry says sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s- It’s okay.” Harry can feel the heat rising in his cheeks every time he opens his mouth. Why does he sound like a nervous teenager talking to the boy he likes?

Niall smiles. “Can I just say that I love your shirt?”

Harry looks down at leopard print button up shirt he’d put on, despite Louis’ insistence not to. He grins as he looks back up. “Thank you. Louis told me not to wear any patterns, but-“

“Louis is an idiot.”

“That’s what I said,” Harry snorts. He thanks the bartender who brings him a glass of wine, and then prompts him to take Niall’s order; Niall just orders another beer.

“So, Liam mentioned that you’re the friend who’s got a kid,” Niall says casually.

“Yeah, I have a son,” Harry replies, smiling fondly. “His name is Charlie, and he’s… He’s my favourite person in the entire world, hands down.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s six.”

“And you had him when you were…20?” Niall guesses. He thanks the bartender, and then takes a small sip from his beer.

Harry nods. “Right in the middle of university,” he murmurs.

“Jesus,” Niall whispers. “That must have been…hard.”

“I dropped out,” Harry explains, though he’s not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s Niall’s kind eyes, or softly spoken words – or maybe it’s his genuine curiosity, rather than the manufactured interest most guys treat the subject of Harry’s son with. Niall seems like the kind of bloke you can tell your deepest, darkest secrets to because you know he’d keep them safe – not that he plans on doing that anytime soon. “Started working fulltime at the bakery I’d been previously working part time at so that his mother, this girl I’d only seen a handful of times, could finish school. We tried to make it work, even lived together for a short while during the pregnancy, but we just couldn’t really seem to keep it together, so she moved in with her parents and I moved in with Louis and Liam.”

“Wow,” Niall hums.

“She was six months pregnant when she graduated, and then we had him about two months later. I never believed in love at first sight until I met Charlie.”

“That’s amazing, mate.”

Harry can feel himself blush. “Thank you.”

“Do you share custody?”

Harry shakes his head. “I have primary custody,” he says. “After giving birth, she became depressed and suicidal, and she got into drugs and alcohol, so I took her to family court for sole custody. She used to get supervised visitation with him, but now that she’s been clean for more than six months, she gets him every other weekend.”

Niall still looks curious, even as he leads them both back to the booth they’d previously occupied. “Did you get to go back to school?”

Harry nods. “I got to finish, yeah. And I’ve got a small photography business now, but I’ve been thinking about opening a studio.”

“Jesus,” Niall murmurs. “You’re quite ambitious.”

“I mean, you work with actual famous people, Niall. _That_ is ambitious.”

Niall shrugs. “That’s nothing compared to putting school on hold to make money in preparation for a child at the age of 20, raising said child, and then still going back to school to make something of yourself.”

Harry feels himself flush all over, again. “I just…did what I had to do.”

“Not many people would, you know. I think that says something about who you are as a person.”

“And who is that?”

“Just- A genuinely good person,” Niall replies softly. “It’s no wonder both Liam and Louis are so fond of you.”

Harry shrugs. “Enough about me, what about you?”

Niall pouts – like, actually sticks his bottom lip out and pouts. (Harry might want to lick Niall’s lip for that.) “But I have other questions.”

“Later,” Harry laughs. “It’s my turn now.”

“Alright, go,” Niall concedes.

“Why did you want to make music for other people, instead of making it for yourself?”

Niall shrugs. “I’ve always enjoyed the technical side of producing music; have always just been more interested in how it’s pieced together than anything else. I like playing with the sounds and the instruments.”

“Have you ever thought about doing it for yourself?”

“Maybe someday,” Niall whispers.

“How many instruments do you play?” Harry asks curiously.

Niall smiles. “I taught myself how to play the guitar when I was 12,” he explains. “A few years ago it I picked up and taught myself to play the drums – and now I’m working on the piano. I can play a few songs from memory, but that’s about it.”

“Wow,” Harry murmurs. “That’s impressive.”

Niall shrugs – and Harry can tell, already, that Niall isn’t the kind of the bloke to praise himself. He’s humble, and Harry likes that.

“Do you prefer L.A. or London?” Harry asks as an afterthought.

Niall groans. “Everyone asks me that, and it’s basically an impossible question to answer because they’re both great cities,” he says. “But I’ll say London, because it’s home. Also, my ex-boyfriend is living in L.A. with his new girlfriend, so…”

“Liam said you came back a couple of months ago… Was it because of _him_?” He knows it’s none of his business, but he’s had more than a few drinks and he’s just…curious. He’s curious about _Niall_ , really. He hasn’t felt this curious about a person in a long time.

Niall shrugs. “I’d been thinking about moving back for a few months before we broke up, and then I caught him in bed with this girl I’d never even seen before. About a month later I moved back here, and making that final decision had never been easier.”

“Jesus. And he’s already living with her?”

“With, around- Whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

“Do you actually not care, or is that one of those things you tell yourself but don’t really mean?”

Niall blinks, stares silently at him for a moment.

Harry immediately feels guilty. “Shit- Sorry, that was so-“

“No, no- It’s fine, it’s a valid question,” Niall says, reaching simultaneously across the table to place his hand over Harry’s. “I just…legitimately do not care anymore.”

Harry’s gaze falls to where Niall’s hand is, and he likes the way it feels. “How did you figure out that you didn’t care anymore?”

Niall smirks. “I stopped checking his Facebook account every day for updates.”

Harry laughs – cackles, really. And then, embarrassed, he clamps both hands over his mouth, eyes wide. “Sorry.”

Niall shrugs, and Harry’s pretty sure that he imagines the way his shoulders sort of fall as he pulls his hand back to curl around the base of his glass. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“Not at the moment, no,” Harry says. “And- I’ve sort of sworn off dating for a while.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve just- Had a string of bad dates,” the brunette explains. “So I’ve taken myself out of the dating game for the time being. Although, my kid has other ideas.”

Niall arches an eyebrow, and Harry wonders for a moment what he’s picturing in his head, if anything.

“He thought he’d be able to make me a boyfriend if he built a snowman. You know, like that movie-“

“Jack Frost.”

“Exactly,” Harry laughs. “Only the snowman is going to melt by the time he comes back from his mother’s tomorrow evening, which will be both a blessing and a curse in terms of breaking the news to him.”

Niall snorts. “I can imagine. And I do not envy you.”

“Thanks,” Harry replies, playfully sarcastic.

Niall winks at him in response, and- Jesus… Harry’s mouth runs dry, and the butterflies come alive in his stomach. God, Niall’s sort of…beautiful, isn’t he?

“Oi,” Louis shouts, as he stumbles slightly up to the table. “Get off your lazy arses, and come play with us. Me an’ Liam, against the both of you.”

Niall grins, climbs out of the booth in a heartbeat and claps Louis on the shoulder. “Prepare to lose then, Tommo.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You’re a cocky one, aren’t ya?”

The blond smirks in response, and then looks Harry. “Coming?”

Harry blinks. “Yeah- Yeah, I’m coming.”

X

“How come you never tried to set me up with Niall?” Harry asks a couple of hours later, when Liam is driving him home. He leans forward in the back seat, rests his chin on the edge of the passenger seat as he looks at Louis.

“I tried to,” Louis replies. “But you wouldn’t even listen to me.”

“I don’t remember that.”

Louis scoffs, whirls his head around to face Harry. “I told you that he knew Liam first.”

Harry blinks as realization dawns on him. “Oh. Well- He’s been back for a couple of months, why didn’t you try before?”

“He wasn’t ready before,” Liam says softly. “I didn’t even think he was ready now, but…”

“But what?”

“Oh, come on,” Louis hums. “Like you need an explanation.”

“No, seriously- But what?” Harry demands.

“Let me put it this way,” Liam laughs. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought that two of you were actually on a date tonight.”

Harry leans back, licks his lips. “Oh… Really?”

“Really,” Louis smirks.

Harry hums, as he turns his gaze towards the window.

X

The following day seems to fly by. It’s full of rain, and laundry, and meal prepping, and a melting snowman. It’s a bit of wondering how he’s going to break the news to Charlie, and a lot of…thinking about Niall.

Niall, with the soft, beautiful hair and gorgeous blue eyes.

Niall, who smiles bright, like he swallowed the sun.

Niall, who laughs at Harry’s stupid jokes, even though he knows they’re stupid.

Niall, who has created an army of butterflies in his stomach and a fire in his chest.

He hasn’t been this…enamoured by someone in a long time. And he barely even knows Niall at all. And yet, last night, it sort of felt like he’d known Niall for ages; like they were old friends, coming together after years without contact.

The sound of the doorbell ringing in the front hall pulls him out of his thoughts. Charlie doesn’t usually ring the doorbell when he comes back home, but he supposes that Charlie is also pretty unpredictable – like his mother.

He puts the paring knife next to the cutting board on the counter, dries his hands on a dishtowel, which he flings over his shoulder as he makes his way to the front door. Instead of a small child on the other side of the door, however, it’s a grown man. It’s-

“N-Niall,” Harry breathes. He blinks, taken aback; stares at the man in front of him, all bright blue eyes and a timid smile between a grey cap. “Hi…”

“Hi,” Niall murmurs back. “Sorry, I know this is probably weird, but-“

“No, no- It’s not weird,” Harry says quickly. He steps aside, then, and motions for Niall to come inside. “I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.”

Niall kicks off his shoes, before following Harry towards the back of the house, and into the kitchen. “I, um- I have this,” he says, pulling what looks like Harry’s wallet out of his back pocket. Only then, does Harry check the kitchen counter and, sure enough, his wallet isn’t where it usually is. “You left it at the bar. I was gonna just give it to Liam to give to you, because I thought this might be weird – me just turning up here out of the blue, but-“

“It’s not weird,” Harry says again, softly. “I’m the one being weird, and that’s only because you’ve caught me off guard. I was expecting Charlie.”

Niall smirks. “Catching people off guard is what I do best,” he jokes.

Harry takes his wallet, and places it on the counter. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The silence that falls between them is, admittedly, a bit awkward – but only because it seems that neither of them know what to say now. Harry wants to ask him how his morning was, but is that weird? Does Niall even want to stay and talk to him? Or is Niall just too polite to tell Harry that he wants to leave now?

Why does Harry feel like a pining teenager?

Niall licks his lips, and takes a breath. “So-“

He’s interrupted, then – and of course he is, by the sound of the front door opening, and then- “Daddy!” Charlies calls out. “I’m home!”

Harry smiles fondly, catches a glimpse of Niall’s smile as he goes to greet his son, who comes barrelling into the kitchen. “Charlie! You’re home!” He exclaims back, as he scoops the boy into his arms. “Did you have fun at mummy’s house?”

“Yeah,” Charlie murmurs, tucking one index finger beneath the collar of Harry’s jumper. “Daddy, why is the snowman gone?”

Harry glances at Niall, who smirks as he folds his arms over his chest, before setting Charlie back on his feet, and squatting down on the floor, so that he’s face to face with his son. “It was too warm outside this weekend, so it melted.”

Charlie frowns. “Does that mean that you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“Well-“

As if on cue, and only for the first time, Charlie notices Niall standing in the other corner of the room. His eyes widen as he whirls his head back around to look at his dad. “Daddy!” he whispers loudly. “Is that your boyfriend?!”

Harry blinks. “What- No, Charlie, he’s-“

“But he’s wearing the snowman’s hat.”

He looks up at Niall and, sure enough, Niall’s hat is almost identical to the one they’d placed on the snowman a few days ago. “Charlie-“

“It worked, daddy!”

Harry shakes his head, cups Charlie’s face between his hands so that he’ll look at him properly. “Charlie, listen to me for a minute, okay?” Charlie nods. “That’s not how it works, bud. And- Niall isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Then what is he?” Charlie asks, looking confused.

“He’s a friend.”

“Why isn’t he your boyfriend?”

Harry sighs. “Because, Charlie… Before two people can be in a relationship with each other, they have to both agree to it.”

“But- Don’t you agree?”

And, well, Harry isn’t sure how to answer that. Not in front of his six year old son, and certainly not in front of the man in question. The thing is, he doesn’t not want Niall to be his boyfriend. It’s just- It’s so early. And what if Niall isn’t even interested?

What if it doesn’t even work out?

“Charlie-“

The boy in question whirls around in his father’s arms to look at Niall, who’s been keeping to himself and watching silently. “What about you? Do you agree to be my dad’s boyfriend?”

Harry gapes “Charlie!”

Niall giggles – which is definitely not the reaction Harry was expecting, which is why Harry is suddenly all ears. “I think that’s something your dad and I should talk about in private.”

Charlie smiles wide. “Okay! I’ll be upstairs!”

And then he’s gone – before Harry can even try to stop him.

Harry pushes himself to his feet, and lets out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. He looks tentatively at Niall; Niall, who looks shy with his flushed cheeks and red ears. “Sorry about that,” he mutters. “He’s, um- Enthusiastic? And he doesn’t- He doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries, no matter how many times I’ve tried to explain it to him.”

“It’s okay,” Niall laughs, with a slight shake of his head. “I, uh- I’m actually late getting to the studio, so I should probably go.”

“Oh,” Harry whispers. He can literally feel his shoulders fall in disappointment, but he follows Niall towards the door nonetheless. Perhaps he read the signs wrong after all. “Yeah, that’s- You should go, then. Definitely.”

Niall smiles sheepishly as he slips his boots back on. “For what it’s worth,” he starts softly, a moment later, as he steps out onto the front stoop, “I actually do fancy the idea of talking in private. I just can’t right now.”

“Oh,” Harry whispers softly. “Okay, yeah- We can talk, then.”

“Okay,” Niall murmurs, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his skinny jeans.

“Okay,” Harry echoes, smiling softly. He watches Niall, as the blond whirls around and makes his way down to the driveway towards his car. Watches Niall get in behind the wheel before he drives away. And then he leans against the doorframe, at the same moment that Charlie shuffles tentatively towards him.

“Did he say no?” Charlie asks.

“No, he didn’t say no.”

“Did he say yes?”

“No,” Harry whispers. He picks Charlie up, and cradles him in his arms as he closes the door. “But we’re going to talk about it.”

X

They talk a lot. Like- _A lot_.

Harry had found Niall’s phone number, scrawled onto a small piece of paper tucked into his wallet when he’d taken out his credit card to pay for petrol the morning after Niall had returned his wallet. He’d contemplated texting Niall for hours, thought he might seem too desperate if he reached out too quickly – so he’d waited until after he and Charlie had eaten dinner, and Charlie was watching Elf, before texting him.

And they haven’t stopped texting in nearly two weeks.

They talk about everything, and anything, and all things in between – and it really does feel like Harry has known Niall his entire life. The only thing they haven’t talked about is the boyfriend situation. It doesn’t bother him though. In fact, he quite enjoys how easy it is right now. He likes getting to know Niall as a friend, without all the pressure of first dates and new relationships.

He just…likes _Niall_.

X

It’s Christmas morning. There’s a snowman out in the front yard, and a house full of Harry’s family – his mum and his stepdad, his sister, a few of his cousins, and his grandparents from his mother’s side. There’s a turkey in the oven, and vegetables on the stove, and a Charlie running around the whole main floor, trying to play with each and every single one of the toys he’d opened that morning.

It’s Christmas morning, and the last thing he’s expecting is for the doorbell to ring when he’s in the middle of placing all the food bowls in the centre of the dining room table.

“I’ll get it!” Charlie shouts, running full speed towards the door.

“Check the window first before you-“

“Daddy! It’s Niall!”

Harry nearly drops the spoon on the table before he can place it down gently. He blinks, wipes his hands on his thighs, and pointedly ignores the way Anne and Gemma are watching him as he walks around the table.

Niall’s squatting down in front of Charlie, a bright smile spread across his lips, when Harry approaches the foyer. And, God, he’s beautiful.

“Daddy, look at what Niall got me,” Charlie says, holding up a toy ukulele. “He said he’ll teach me how to play it too!”

“Wow,” Harry breathes, nodding at Niall as the blond pushes himself to his feet with hands behind his back. “That’s amazing, Charlie. What do you say?”

Charlie smiles up at Niall, and then wraps his arms around Niall’s legs to give him a hug. “Thank you, Niall,” he murmurs.

Niall smiles as he ruffles Charlie’s curls. “You’re very welcome, lad.”

“Charlie, why don’t you go show grandma your ukulele?”

“Alright.”

Harry watches, briefly, as Charlie disappears down the hallway and into the living room. He pretends not to hear his mum ask Charlie who ‘Niall’ is, but he can’t help the blush that rushes up his cheeks when Charlie tells her that Niall is his ‘boyfriend’. He lets out a breath as he turns back to face Niall, smiles sheepishly. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Niall murmurs back. “Happy Christmas.”

“Thank you. And- Thank you for getting that for him,” Harry adds. “He’s been talking about getting a guitar ever since he saw yours last week.”

Niall shrugs. “I figured a ukulele was a good compromise, without stepping on your toes.”

“It’s brilliant.”

“I got you something too,” Niall says, pulling his hands out from behind his back. In one hand is a large…flat box thing, wrapping in bright red wrapping paper – and Harry reckons that he knows exactly what it is.

Harry gasps, “Niall-“

“Just- I know, just- Open it,” the blond urges softly. “Please.”

Harry’s hands shake softly as he reaches for it, and it’s like his stomach jumps up into his throat. “Do you, um- Do you want to come in?”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Niall whispers. “I just wanted to give this to you. Besides, I do have to get back home eventually anyway.”

“Okay,” Harry murmurs. He opens the gift slowly, carefully. “Jesus, Niall…”

Niall shoves his hands into his pockets, as the wrapping paper falls to the floor.

Harry’s throat runs dry as he stares down at the vintage Rolling Stones ‘Greatest hits’ vinyl album. He feels breathless, and a bit dizzy, and-

“I saw you eyeing it the other day through the window, and I knew you wouldn’t buy it for yourself,” Niall explains. “And, I wanted you to have it, so I went back the next day and-“

Harry cuts him off, planting his lips firmly against Niall’s in a kiss that’s sudden, and yet supremely overdue. He cups Niall’s face with the hand that isn’t holding the record, and pulls him closer; he feels like he’s flying and falling at the same time, and the butterflies in his stomach have never felt so alive. Niall kisses back like he means it, melts into Harry and curls his fingers in the fabric of Harry’s jumper. His lips are soft, and his mouth tastes like chocolate – and Harry swears that it’s what heaven probably feels like.

Niall pants when he pulls back, and presses his forehead against Harry’s. “Jesus,” he breathes heavily.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Harry whispers back.

“That was…more than enough,” Niall giggles.

Harry smirks as he pulls away, then. “Maybe I could take you on a date sometime?”

Niall smiles, runs a hand through his hair. “I’d like that. Even if it is just so that Charlie can actually say that I’m your boyfriend and be _right_.”

Harry tips his head back and groans. “I’m sorry. He just- He actually really likes you, you know?”

“I really like him too,” Niall shrugs. “Kinda like his dad, also.”

“Just ‘kinda’?”

Niall blushes. “Kinda…maybe…a lot,” he admits.

“Yeah, well, I might like you too,” Harry laughs.

“Oh, I know,” Niall smirks. “Charlie told me.”

Harry rolls his eyes, albeit fondly. “Traitor. Of course he did.”

There’s a sudden yelp from inside the house and it’s Gemma, yelling at Harry that the turkey is done, and then Niall’s phone goes off and it’s a text from his father that their turkey is ready – and Harry isn’t ready to say goodbye.

Niall frowns. “I should go,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, me too,” Harry says. “I’ve got carving duty. I’ll text you.”

“Right, yeah,” Niall smiles. He turns to leave, and then he hesitates, and Harry swallows hard around the lump in his throat as Niall turns back around. (He half expects for this to end badly.)

Harry stands, shoulders stiff, lip caught nervously between his teeth – and then Niall’s kissing him again. It’s chaste this time, nothing more than a soft, subtle touch of lips; a silent promise, before a whispered one of seeing each other soon.

Everyone is gathered around the dining room table, and they’re all looking at him when Harry returns, but it’s Charlie that his gaze lands on. Charlie, who’s grinning from ear to ear, with his chin resting on his fists as he looks up anxiously at his father.

“So, Charlie says your boyfriend is a…snowman?”


End file.
